Copyright, Mort

A few poems inspired by my problem, I am “a cutter” if you know what I mean.


This is my body this is my skin
I can treat them just how I wish
Carving on those stony walls
Looking past those glassy eyes
Empty streets full of empty deals
I can live my life like this
You never ever cared
You never ever knew
I never ever showed
I never ever queued
Lying before your very eyes
Lying and you are eating my lies
Look at those strawberries
Aren´t they bright and red
Just like that tacky liquid
That makes me forget
And this all reminds me
I have to sharpen my knife

Predictive Lines

These acts so impulsive
All my moves are compulsive
I never ever wanted to get inside this bleeding word
I never ever wanted to get under this dying world
Cause I knew I would see
Angst I would feel
Today tomorrow whatever they´ll say
And whenever they may
Arrive in a cloud of surprise
And my tears
Invisible as those pads
Along with my fears
Are just escaping rats
Leaving my thoughtless hands without guard


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